Shadows on the Hills
by Dillon
Summary: the shadow reflect on his light. Bakura RyouKage Bakura, companion to Behind Blue Eyes. Very dark.


Shadows on the Hills

Bakura/Kage Bakura

Songfic – Companion to Behind Blue Eyes. Read that one first.

Kage Bakura's point of view on Bakura Ryou

Notes- Kage Bakura is a name borrowed from someone else. Nobody on the show calls Bakura Ryou by his given name, and so I prefer this way. Kage is a word that means 'shadow', as Yami means 'darkness'. I find it appropriate. Words in slashes are lyrics, as I can't get italics to upload right

Disclaimer- I own nothing but the words I've written. Lyrics belong to Don McLean. Characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. 

----

/Starry starry night   
paint your palette blue and grey /  
  
/look out on a summer's day   
with eyes that know the   
darkness in my soul.   
Shadows on the hills   
sketch the trees and the daffodils   
catch the breeze and the winter chills   
in colors on the snowy linen land./ 

I look up and can't help a smile. 

You're painting me again, with that cute look on your face, worrying your lower lip as you try to decide where to lay your brush.

This was a good idea, coming to the park. 

The breeze in the grass, the air still slightly cool from the lingering snowmelt.

I look down and scowl, makling the little girl I'm helping giggle.

Blasted shoelace.

  
/And now I understand what you tried to say to me   
how you suffered for your sanity   
how you tried to set them free.   
They would not listen   
they did not know how   
perhaps they'll listen now. /  
  


As I walk away from the little girl and her mother, I hear the familiar scolding.

I know, logically, that a child should not talk to strangers, that they have no way of knowing I wouldn't hurt them.

It doesn't stop the sting, though.

You've told me I should't let it bother me, or I shouldn't insist on seeing a child safely back to it's guardian.

But seeing a child in distress, could you resist?

I couldn't leave a little girl, or even a stray dog, wander alone.

Any more than I could do the same to you.

I see you watching me, sadness tinting your eyes.

We're thinking the same thing again.

I smile at you, and see your eyes come back to life.

I wonder again how I got so lucky.

_  
/__Starry starry night   
flaming flowers that brightly blaze /  
  
/swirling clouds in violet haze reflect in   
Vincent's eyes of China blue.   
Colors changing hue   
morning fields of amber grain /  
  
/weathered faces lined in pain   
are soothed beneath the artist's   
loving hand. /_

I watch your eyes.

Did you know they change when you're happy?

I can clearly see the moment you stop feeling my hurt, and the joy shines through.

I love that I can make you happy.

I look at your painting, catching me tying that kid's shoe.

Stupid blasted laces.

You've painted my eyes blue again.

I wonder sometimes why you do that, but I can see in this one.

It makes me look softer, looking down at the kid. If my eyes were red, it would look like a murderous glare.

I feel that familiar pricking in my eyes, the lump in my throat, the tight numbness that I feel when I look at you, and your paintings.

This is the me that you see, the one you'd like to share with your friends.

But they'd never understand. 

I can't risk letting them in, my love. 

It was almost too hard even to let you.

I watch in surprise as you dab away a drop from the page.

Must be starting to rain.

Watching you box youor paints and stand, I take an impulseive step, and catch you in a kiss as you stand.

The smile shining from your eyes is worth every disapproving glare.

I smile back, and lead you home.

_  
/__And now I understand what you tried to say to me/ _

_  
/how you suffered for your sanity   
how you tried to set them free.   
perhaps they'll listen now. /_

As we walk into the hall, I set down your paintbox and catch your laughing mouth in another kiss.

You giggle and shake your head, and I laugh as tiny droplets contact with my skin.

You're always happy when it rains.

You tried to explain to me once, how the rain makes everything new.

How it washed away your tears when you were young, and how it still washes away your sadness, just to watch it.

I remember, though I'm not sure I understand.

You look sad, and I follow your gaze to the pictures on the wall.

Old family, old friends, empty smiles. I wonder if they ever tried to understand you?

For a moment, looking at me, your eyes are still clouded with old grief.

My heart feels as if it will burst as I kiss the clouds away.

You smile, and lead me to the bedroom.

I hear a crack of thunder, and the lights go.

You squeal as a flash of lightning momentarily brightens the room.

I smile, and follow you.

_  
  
/__For they could not love you   
but still your love was true /_

You've told me sometimes, how nights like this make you sad.

Empty, lonely.

You told me once, as I licked the blood from your lip after one of our more intense sessions, how glad you were that I could understand.

That I didn't judge you for the way you knew to connect.

I could never judge you, love. We connect the same way.

You told me that night, that your hell would be a dark room, alone for eternity.

That was the first time you made me cry.

We played the game again, of blade on and under skin.

You said you loved to feel it inside you, the blood that flows through my veins flowing into yours.

Knowing that I was connecting in the same way.

I could never deny you anything.

Even when you asked my to play it deeper, harder, faster.

Even when it took you from me.

_  
  
/__and when no hope was left inside on that starry starry night.   
You took your life   
as lovers often do;   
But I could have told you   
Vincent   
this world was never   
meant for one   
as beautiful as you. /_

I wish now that I'd asked you what it was that made you so sad.

Why it all mattered so much, hurt you so deeply.

I looked down at your eyes, once so full of life, now empty.

I think, now, I may understand.

The lightning crashed, and I stood.

_  
__  
/Starry starry night   
portraits hung in empty halls   
frameless heads on nameless walls   
with eyes that watch the world and can't forget./_

_   
 _

They never knew you, did they? 

None of them.

I cursed the names of the ones I knew, and simply screamed at the ones I didn't.

I gathered the portraits that clouded your eyes, the empty smiles that made you cry.

It won't be long now, beloved. 

I won't let you be alone.

/Like the stranger that you've met   
the ragged men in ragged clothes   
the silver thorn of bloody rose   
lie crushed and broken   
on the virgin snow./

I gather you in my arms, wrapping you loosely in a soft blanket, carrying the portraits you wept for.

I carried youo back to the place we used to go, a little grove in the trees. 

The snow hasn't melted here yet.

You were always so pretty against the snow.

The rain is freezing, icy sleet dripping from the branches.

It won't be long now, as I strike a match and put it to the dry pictures.

Photographs and portraits, paintings and ink, old and dry, new and fresh, all catch the flame.

Some sooner, some later, but I have the satisfation of watching them burn.

I wish you could see it, love. 

I wish I had time to show them how they hurt you, to make them pay.

I allow a tear to track down my face, as I start the game again.

I'll be with you soon, beloved.

You won't be alone.

_  
/__And now I think I know what you tried to say to me   
how you suffered for your sanity   
how you tried to set them free.   
They would not listen   
they're not listening still   
perhaps they never will. /  
  
___


End file.
